


Happy

by troubledidiots



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Body Image, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, M/M, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-16 04:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17543126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubledidiots/pseuds/troubledidiots
Summary: Stop saying that you're fine if you're not.





	1. Chapter 1

If you could stop hiding your feelings, wouldn't that make it all better?

 

 

 

Food made him sick. Eating made him sick. He made himself sick, but he couldn't stop himself.

 

It was disgusting.

 

He disgusted himself.

 

But that was all there was to him. He was a disgusting pig who couldn't, wouldn't stop eating. He was below it all. That's why he couldn't stop.

 

He'd eat, and grow fat, then shrink a little when he cried and eat again.

 

That's the cycle.

 

It was pitiful.

 

~*~

 

If someone asked Katsuki Yuuri what made him happy, the automated response would be skating.

 

It wasn't like he hated it or anything.

 

But he didn't love it either.

 

Skating was . . . sad.

 

To be more precise . . . His skating was sad.

 

It was a sad excuse of a pig like him to ever try to walk the shores of his beloved idol.

 

It was a trick.

 

It was a trap.

 

If he lost, he'd wallow in feelings of self hatred. If he won, he'd hate himself for tarnishing this world with his existence.

 

He shouldn't be here. It was a mistake. It was a fault. It was wrong.

 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. So, so wrong.

 

He hated it. Hated himself.

 

Hated these thoughts.

 

_(Go away. Please.)_

 

~*~

 

He doesn't hate himself.

 

Katsuki Yuuri doesn't hate himself.

 

He was fine in his own body. He was fine in his mind.

 

He was fine. Everything was.

 

If his eyes flickered to chiseled bodies, it wasn't that he wishing that was his.

 

It didn't matter to him that his face was a little round, and that his glasses made Mari call him a dork.

 

She'd slotted in a cute in between, but a dork was a dork either way.

 

And it didn't bother him in the slightest.

 

(He didn't, wouldn't cry over that.)

 

It was all fine.

 

~*~

 

Nothing made him happy anymore.

 

Food was getting bland but he wouldn't stop eating.

 

Life was . . . dull.

 

If someone told him that there was something that could make him happy, he wouldn't believe it.

 

There was nothing to be happy about in this world.

 

_(There is, there is, there is. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.)_

 

Nothing.

 

At all.

 

~*~

 

Stop. It.

 

He was okay.

 

_(No, you're not.)_

 

He would be fine if he just calmed down.

 

Just take a deep breath and close your eyes.

 

_(You need help. You need help. You need help.)_

 

He was happy.

 

He had everything.

 

He had his family. His friends. Skating.

 

What else made him happy?

 

Viktor. Viktor made him happy.

 

_(Viktor doesn't even know you.)_

 

Right. Remember. Remember what to be grateful for. What to be happy for.

 

~*~

 

Turns out Viktor does know him after all.

 

_(Not that you deserve it.)_

 

He would almost be happy, if it wasn't him. If it wasn't Katsuki Yuuri.

 

Yuuri was . . . sad. . . .

 

Fat.

 

(Viktor said so himself. And it was embarrassing.)

 

Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away.

 

_(See, you freak?_

_Viktor’s staring.)_

 

~*~

 

Yuri's right.

 

He was a pig.

 

(He knows. Knew. Known.)

 

Yuri's right in a lot of things.

 

He should be the one with a different name. He should be the one stuck with a dumb name. Not Yuri.

 

Yuri hates him  and that's fine because he hates himself too.

 

_(No, you don't. Stop it.)_

 

~*~

 

“Yuuri, are you okay?”

 

Okay? Okay.

 

He was okay.

 

“Yuuri?”

 

He was fine.

 

“Have you been . . . okay?”

 

There was nothing wrong.

 

~*~

 

No one should be worried about him. He shouldn't be worried about him.

 

He was happy.

 

 _(Stop telling yourself that. Stop lying. You need help—_ _)_

Viktor loved him. His family loved him. His fans loved him. He has everything.

 

Everyone loves him. He loves him . . . .

 

_(No one loves you. You don't love you.)_

 

Katsuki Yuuri was at peak happiness. His heart couldn't take this much love.

 

_(Stop lying.)_

 

~*~

 

Nothing triggered it, exactly.

 

Yuuri was sad.

 

(No. No. No. He's happy. He's happy.)

 

It was fine to be sad sometimes.

 

_(Go back. Be happy. Stop this. Stop it. It's scary.)_

 

The bathroom tiles were strangely white. Whiter than anything he'd ever seen.

 

Everything was more . . . everything.

 

The lights seemed brighter. The silence seemed louder. The pain seemed bigger.

 

_(No, there isn't pain. Stop this. Please.)_

 

His tears were staining the floor.

 

_(It's not tears. Stop being like this.)_

 

If he counted every second left, would Viktor come bursting through the door before he reached the end?

 

_(You're not sad. You're not killing yourself. It was an accident. You didn't mean it to happen.)_

 

Ninety two.

 

He counted ninety two pills.

_(That's enough. Throw them up now. What will everyone think if they knew you took that many?)_

 

He wasn't sure if it was enough.

_(They'll think you're a whore starving for attention.They'll know you did this on purpose. They'll know!)_

(No. No. No. No. No.

 

I'm sorry.

 

It was an accident.)

 

~*~

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't right now. I needed something to project my feelings onto. Sincere apologies to everyone waiting for an update to any of my stories.


	2. Chapter 2

 

_“Yuuri?”_

 

 _“I didn’t—_ _!”_

 

_“Yuuri! What’s wrong?!”_

 

 _“I—_ _didn’t mean to—_ _! It—_ _It_ _was an accident!”_

 

_“What? Yuuri what—"_

 

_“I’m sorry!”_

 

~*~

 

**KATSUKI YUURI HOSPITALISED AFTER PILL OVERDOSE**

 

“Mr Nikiforov! DId Mr Katsuki overdose because he’s an addict?”

 

“Will Mr Katsuki be participating in The Grand Prix?”

 

“Is it true that you and Mr Katsuki are engaged?”

 

“Can I have an autograph?”

 

Viktor gritted his teeth and pushed past the horde of reporters. The questions thrown around were promptly ignored as dozens of cameras trailed into the entrance after him.

 

He dumped the papers into a near trashcan as he walked past, unable to bear looking at the headlines.

 

“How selfish of you! You can’t even answer some questions?!”

 

Viktor whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes at the female reporter. He was supposed to be good at handling the media yet he felt as though he’d lost himself in this entire situation.

 

“I used to respect you and this is how you’re treating one of your fans?” she asked. The mass of reporters mixed cameramen stood behind her silently, some agreeing and some uncomfortable.

 

Viktor knew he couldn’t cause a scene now. If anything happened, it’d happen on camera. He didn’t like it but he couldn’t tarnish his name either. “Please leave,” he spat out. “I don’t wish to entertain the media now.”

 

He didn’t care enough to put a smile on, feeling terrible for even having to explain himself to them. He just wanted to run up to Yuuri’s side and hold his hand.

 

“Oh, I get it. You view us as lesser than dirt now? What makes you think we’re undeserving to know of Mr Katsuki’s condition?”

 

Viktor wondered if this lady even knew the meaning of shame. His fists clenched but he immediately unclenched them. “Please leave us alone,” he told them, turning to walk to Yuuri’s room.

 

“Mr Niki—”

 

“Sorry, you need to leave,” a nurse said sternly. “You’re disturbing the patients here. Please leave or I’ll have to call security.”

 

The journalists frowned but unable to argue, they went out one by one.

 

“Viktor? What happened?” Phichit asked when he saw Viktor’s rumpled look.

 

“Reporters everywhere,” Viktor said solemnly.

 

Phichit frowned, “I’ll handle them. . . . How terrible. They have no respect whatsoever.”

 

“How’s Yuuri?” he asked.

 

“He’s stable now. Yurio’s with him. The doctor said not to have so many people in there at once so Celestino is at the canteen, and Chris said he’ll be coming later.”

 

“I know, he told me.” Chris and Yuuri weren’t exactly close so it was most likely Chris would be coming for moral support. “What about his family?”

 

“His parents and sister are worried sick. They want to come to here to Barcelona. His ballet teacher too.”

 

Viktor shook his head. “No need. Tell them that he’ll be returning to Japan once he’s stable.”

 

Phichit didn’t have to ask. Yuuri wouldn’t be able to attend the Grand Prix Final even if he stayed. No one in their right mind would allow it.

 

Viktor’s eyes went down and suddenly, “Why would he . . . Why would Yuuri . . . ”

 

Phichit was quiet for awhile. His eyes seemed to reflect memories that Viktor couldn’t see. “Yuuri has . . . issues. He’s never outright said them but . . . But you can tell if you’ve spent time with him.”

 

His words weren’t meant to guilt trip but Viktor felt guilty anyways. He blamed himself for not noticing and for letting this happen.

 

“Hey, it’s not your fault. Not everyone notices it. It took me a long time to realise that there was something wrong. I’ve tried bringing it up but he’s always outright denied them so I assumed he didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t expect him to . . . ”

 

Viktor didn’t know Phichit very well but felt empathy for the man in front of him. Yuuri had known him longer so he couldn’t imagine how Phichit must have felt. They were both blaming themselves for Yuuri and Viktor figured he had to stop this before it spiralled.

 

“It’s not any of our faults,” Viktor said, sounding like himself for the first time. “Yuuri isn’t at fault too. No one is. We just need to focus on getting him better now, okay?”

 

Phichit bit his lip and stared wordlessly at Viktor. “Okay.”

 

“I’m going to go see Yuuri now. You . . . ” _Wait here? Leave?_

 

He didn’t know what to say so Phichit finished for him, “Okay. I’ll contact his family. And handle the press.”

 

“Thank you,” Viktor replied.

 

His strides were large and quick because he desperately needed to see Yuuri. When he reached, he wasn’t surprised to see Yuri beside him. They didn’t seem to have noticed him yet.

 

“Pi—Y _uuri_ ,” Yuri coughed, eyes not meeting Yuuri’s. “I’m . . . sorry for always calling you names and insulting you.”

 

Yuri looked so different from than he usually was. His eyes held conflict but his face was sombre, almost regretful. For as long as Viktor could remember, he had never apologised for anything but this situation now was different. Viktor supposed he should apologise too, for not noticing, for teasing him about his weight before he lost it.

 

Although Yuuri looked so fragile, he shook his head hard. “No. . . . It’s fine. I’ve never cared about that. You don’t have to treat me differently because of . . . what happened.”

 

Yuri looked like he wanted to say something and Viktor did too. He wanted to ask _why_ , and tell him that it’s okay for him to say what he really felt but before he could, Yuri noticed him.

 

“Viktor!” Yuri exclaimed, standing immediately. His face flushed and glared all the same like he was embarrassed and angry that Viktor heard his apology but didn’t have the courage to voice it out in fear of stressing Yuuri.

 

Viktor laughed, trying to ease the tension. He didn’t mention it but they knew he heard it. Flustered, Yuri began walking out. “Don’t stand there like a creep watching!” he scowled, causing Yuuri to laugh.

 

“He’s one of a kind, isn’t he?,” Viktor chipped, taking over Yuri’s seat.

 

“Yeah,” Yuuri said quietly as he fiddled with his fingers. He felt strangely awkward around Viktor now.

 

“How have you been?”

 

“Fine,  just can’t get the taste of charcoal out of my mouth,” Yuuri said, looking like he was about to have another round of vomiting all over again.

 

“That must have been horrible,” Viktor said softly and took his hands into his, stroked the ring finger void of any ring.

 

Yuuri flinched and looked away guiltily but let Viktor hold his hand. They’d never felt so foreign towards one another before. Yuuri cursed himself for causing this huge mess.

 

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asked because Viktor looked anything but okay.

 

Viktor turned to Yuuri’s face, the glossiness in his eyes betraying his words. “I’m fine, Yuuri. I’m just . . . I’m just glad you’re alright.”

 

Glad was an understatement. He felt a mixture of everything, but mostly, he was frustrated that Yuuri was still acting like everything was fine. A hand left the hold to trace Yuuri’s face. “I’m glad you’re alright,” he repeated.

 

Yuuri didn’t say anything for a moment.

 

“The Grand Prix . . . ” Yuuri started, not daring to meet Viktor’s eyes.

 

“You’ve been drawn out. You’ll be returning to Japan.”

 

“What? No! Viktor!” Yuuri turned to look at him.

 

But Viktor remained firm. His grasp clenched as well as his heart. “You’re not in any condition to participate, Yuuri.”

 

“How could you do this to me?” Yuuri cried out.

 

Viktor’s tears looked ready to spill over any moment. “No, Yuuri, how could _you_ do this to me!”

 

Yuuri was taken aback and his own tears filled over. “I told you, it was an accident!”

 

“No one,” Viktor said, his voice suddenly getting louder. “ _No one_ takes an entire bottle of sleeping pills on _accident!_ ”

 

“I didn’t mean to!” Yuuri sobbed. “Don’t pull me out, please don’t pull me out. I’m fine, I just need to rest for awhile. Viktor, please!”

 

“Stop saying that you’re fine!” Viktor said. “You’re not, why won’t you just admit that?! You tried to _kill yourself_ , Yuuri.”

 

“No . . . No! I didn’t—It’s not—Please, I’m okay, Viktor. I swear. There’s nothing for me not to be not fine about! I—I have everything . . . I have—”

 

“Stop lying to yourself!”

 

It was laughable. They were both crying and fighting at the same time in the hospital ward like some scene from a drama serial.

 

“I’m—I’m not.”

 

“You need help, Yuuri. You need to see someone who can help you—”

 

“ _I don’t need any help!_ There’s nothing wrong with me! I’m perfectly fine, stop saying that I’m not. . . . Stop it.”

 

“Please, Yuuri,” Viktor was crying now. “You’re not okay. Why do you keep telling everyone that you are?”

 

Yuuri couldn’t answer because he didn’t know why either. He’d been so accustomed to telling himself that he was happy—should be happy—that he didn’t know why he did it or how to handle it.

 

“Go away,” Yuuri whispered. He didn’t want to come in terms with these emotions. “Go away, Viktor. Leave me alone.”

 

For Viktor, it felt like a dagger tore through him. He was choked, “Yuuri . . . ”

 

“I don’t want to see you right now,” Yuuri mumbled, turning away from him. “Please leave.”

 

“Why—When—”

 

“I don’t know.” he cut off.

 

Viktor, torn up to the point of heavy tears, still caressed Yuuri gently. “You’re so cruel,” he whispered and it was like a spear to Yuuri’s own heart.

 

And when he left, Yuuri used the blanket to wipe his tears. He felt immensely terrible and wanted to talk to no one. Not his family, not Celestino and not even Phichit.

 

~*~

 

“You look terrible,” were Chris’s first words when Viktor emerged.

 

Viktor blinked his tears away. “You’re here. Where’s Phichit?”

 

“He went to handle the bunch of crazy reporters outside.” Chris answered. “How are you?”

 

“Fine, just fine!” Viktor replied.

 

“What . . . happened?” Chris asked. Viktor’s tears were still dripping.

 

“What am I going to do, Chris!” he cried. “He keeps saying that it was an accident, and that he’s fine! He doesn’t even want to see me . . . !”

 

Chris looked pitifully at his longtime friend. “He just needs some time alone to calm himself.”

 

“Then what do I do after that?” Viktor asked. “He doesn’t want any help! He’s denying that there’s even a problem.”

 

He was at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to handle a situation like this. Chris came to comfort his friend but found himself overwhelmed.

 

“Viktor, calm down,” was all he could say.

 

“Yeah, you’re right. . . . ” Viktor sighed. “Sorry for making you miss practice for this.”

 

“Nonsense. ‘This’ is important, and I’ll be here to support you,” he said, “and Yuuri.”

 

“Thank you,” Viktor said but his mind was still on Yuuri. He was at a loss as to how to help him.

 

“Would you like me to talk to him?” Chris offered.

 

Viktor rejected him. “No. I don’t think he wants to hear it.”

 

“So what do we do?”

 

“I’m asking myself the same thing,” he ran a hand through his hair. “Doesn’t help that the media is snooping around and spreading nonsense.”

 

“Don’t worry about that. We’ll handle it. You just focus on Yuuri, okay?”

 

Viktor sighed again. “Okay.”

 

~*~

 

Viktor didn’t come to visit him for days and by the end of it, Yuuri felt terrible for making Viktor feel bad.

 

Each time Phichit came, he’d update him things, shows him pictures. All that mundane stuff that Yuuri felt relieved for. Chris came a couple of times too, and so did Yuri and a few other skaters that Yuuri wasn’t familiar with but was friendly towards nonetheless.

 

None of them mentioned about the incident itself and he was grateful for that.

 

Although he was still shaken by it, he was acting as he usually did. He’d rather to push that piece of memory to the back of his mind than face it.

 

So when Viktor came in one day, he didn't know what to say. Their fight was something he couldn’t push away and their fight was about the incident, which meant double pain.

 

He tried acting normal. “Viktor,” Yuuri said. “Hi.”

 

Viktor’s face seemed to be contorted in a mixture of surprise and relief. He went up to Yuuri and smiled. “Hey.”

 

Yuuri eased up, slightly thankful that it wasn’t like their earlier meeting. It seemed that some distance helped because they were talking normally again. He shifted a bit to let Viktor sit on the bed by his side.

 

“I’ve missed you,” Viktor told him.

 

“Me too,” Yuuri replied and even though he didn’t want to confront any incidents in fear of arousing any feelings, he decided that not apologising would be an asshole move. “Viktor? I’m sorry about . . . what happened before. I know I hurt you.”

 

Viktor said, “You know, that really did hurt me, Yuuri.”

 

Yuuri widened his eyes, “I—”

 

He huffed, “But you can make it up to me . . . by initiating a kiss on your own!”

 

Yuuri blushed when he realised it was all a ploy. He round eyes stared at Viktor and was too flustered to speak.

 

Viktor smiled, “Go on.”

 

“Wait—Wait,” Yuuri blushed. He hid his burning face in his hands and peeked through the cracks.

 

“I’m waiting,” Viktor teased, liking how even though they were already engaged, Yuuri was still shy about this sort of thing with him.

 

“Okay,” Yuuri gasped, gathering the courage to press his lips against Viktor’s for a moment.

 

“Only that?” Viktor’s hands went to his lips to touch the lingering taste of Yuuri. He’d missed him so dearly.

 

“What—What more do you want!”

 

“Nothing,” Viktor chuckled. “I just wanted to tease you.”

 

“You’re terrible,” Yuuri huffed.

 

“Not as terrible as you,” Viktor said.

 

“I’m sorry!”

 

“I’m just kidding, Yuuri. I’ve already forgiven you,” he said.

 

“So then, The Grand Prix . . . ”

 

Viktor’s smile went down. “Yuuri—”

 

“Oh, you’re still insisting I go back to Japan,” he said lowly.

 

“Yuuri, please. Your family and friends are worried. We’ve already found a therapist—”

 

“A therapist?!” Yuuri exclaimed. “I don’t need one—”

 

“Yuuri—”

 

“You’re upsetting me, Viktor! Why do you always do this? We were fine before and we would have been fine if you didn’t mention this.”

 

“And what? Push it all behind us? Forget that you tried to kill yourself?”

 

He flinched, “I didn’t try to kill myself!”

 

“Then why did you take all those pills?” Viktor asked him softly. He didn’t want this to turn into a shouting mass.

 

“I—I’m sorry,” Yuuri whimpered.

 

Viktor gathered him into his arms. “You’re hurting so much, Yuuri. Please let me help you.”

 

Yuuri was shaking. “I’m . . . ”

 

“Don’t say you’re okay. Stop saying that.”

 

“But . . . ” But what? What else could he say? His feelings were all coming out like a burst of a bubble. It was messy and he couldn’t avoid it.

 

He couldn’t deny it wasn’t there anymore either because now everyone knew and no one would let him.

 

“I don’t want any help. . . . ”

 

Viktor had an unreadable expression. “Why not, Yuuri?” he prodded.

 

“Because . . . ” Yuuri felt that if he admitted this, it would be all over so he chose to keep quiet.

 

Viktor wasn’t having any of that. Be it if Yuuri was uncomfortable, he needed help and they needed to overcome this problem before the help. “Because what? Tell me, Yuuri.”

 

“I don’t like this, Viktor.” Yuuri told him.

 

“You can’t keep running away from your feelings forever.”

 

“I’m—”

 

“You can’t keep trying to lie to yourself about your feelings, Yuuri. Please, just tell me how you really feel.”

 

“I—I don’t know how to.” It was hard for someone like Yuuri who had been hiding the way he felt even from himself to approach it. It scared him. “I don’t want to.”

 

“It’ll be okay, Yuuri.” Viktor said. “It isn’t now, but it will be if you let me help you. You know that you’re not okay but you still try to convince yourself otherwise. If you’ll just admit it, then it’ll feel better. I promise.”

 

Yuuri kept quiet for a few moments but he pressed his face into Viktor’s chest to take in his cologne.

 

_I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m not okay. I’m not. I’m not._

 

“You won’t think of me as being . . . needy?” he asked cautiously.

 

“I wouldn’t think of you as anything, Yuuri. I’ll love you forever and ever.” Viktor promised.

 

Yuuri bit his lip and pushed to look at Viktor’s face. “I . . . I don’t like feeling like this.”

 

“I know.” Viktor told him gently.

 

“Sometimes it feels like I can barely breathe. Like if I took another breath, I’d die and I wouldn’t even care about my death because I hate myself so much.”

 

It felt strange to him, speaking the words he’d normally kept locked and hidden deep inside him but like a raging bull, his words couldn’t stop once it started. “And I hate hating myself because it makes me feel so pathetic that _I_ couldn’t like myself, so no one else probably would.”

 

“I hate knowing that I have these feelings and I hate showing them even more because . . .  Because what if everyone thought I was doing this for attention? There’s nothing for me to be unhappy about so why am I . . . ”

 

Yuuri choked on a dry sob and shook his head as Viktor’s fingers threaded through his hair. “Любимый, don’t cry. I’m sorry you’ve felt so much pain this long. I’m happy you’re telling me this. You’re not attention-seeking or anything and you don’t need a reason to be unhappy.”

 

Even though it was like a huge rock had been lifted off of him, Yuuri still felt anxious. “I know I’m abnormal, Viktor. I’m sorry for being like this. I’ll . . . I’ll get . . . help.”

 

Viktor hand went to Yuuri’s cheek and raised his head. “Don’t say that. You’re not abnormal, you’re just hurt. It’ll be better soon, okay? We’ll go to Japan and you can see the therapist and you’ll get better and then we’ll get married and go on our honeymoon.”

 

“But . . . but what if I never get better? What if I ruin everything—?”

 

Viktor thought for a moment. “I’ll still stay by you, Yuuri. Through everything, ruined or not.”

 

That was probably one of the loveliest things Yuuri has ever been told. He went a little pink and his heartbeat eased. “Then my skating . . . ?”

 

“You can come back anytime you want. There’s nothing wrong with taking a break.”

 

“But by the time I come back, it’ll be too—”

 

“Yuuri.” Viktor interrupted, anchoring Yuuri in his anxiety. “Don’t think about that now. I just want you to feel better now. You don’t have to hide anything anymore. Can you do that for me?”

 

Yuuri swallowed and looked down because to be honest, he didn’t know if he could. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, trying to look at Viktor’s face through the burst of bright colours. “Okay. . . . " he whispered. “I’ll try.”

 

Viktor smiled at him and kissed him passionately.

 

“I love you, Yuuri,” he said. “And I hope one day, you’ll love yourself too.”

 

Yuuri was still full of doubt and thought,  _I don't think I ever will._

 

But seeing Viktor's face full of hope and love for him forced him to look away.

 

 _I_ _will_ , he thought to himself.  _You can shut up. I will._

 

Viktor loved him but he didn't love himself. It made little to no sense to him but for the time being, he'll do what Viktor wished because even though he hated himself, he loved Viktor and that meant something.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> любимый - love
> 
> (I think, idk. I don't speak an ounce of Russian. Don't fail me Google Translate!)
> 
> Okay, I wrote this as a venting sort of thing but then I got troubled because it doesn't sit well with me that something that hits so close to home ends in suicide. Ugh, flashbacks coming *shudders*.
> 
> So yeah, I wrote another chapter mainly because of that. I suck at the healing trope but I just wanted to make it end in a not-suicide sooo yeah. (#plotholesandshittywritingbutwhocares) (wow what totally not lazy writing skills)
> 
> Also, I actually didn't proofread this so if there are any mistakes... Pretend you didn't see them. I'll scrunch my face up and cringe as I try to sort through my work and find errors lol.
> 
> No, I'm not depressed or anything like that. I simply felt down when I wrote this and somehow felt the need to post ANOTHER venting piece (ugh I suck) but don't worry if anyone is coming here from my other stories!
> 
> I've had some.. complications with 'Kill Him with Kindness' but I'm already writing the new chapter. As for 'Pain of Something', ehh, you guys need to wait a little more because gory shit doesn't sit well with me (LOL).
> 
> Right, since I got this story out of the way, I guess it's time to actually update my others! :) (a smile of pain)
> 
> Yeah, anyways. It's your totally, irresponsibly favourite author signing off! :) Bye!
> 
> (@Staronet this one's for you, darling *blows kiss*)


End file.
